Don't Give Up
by irishgirl9
Summary: After weeks away, Sam's ready to return to his family, but something goes very wrong. Will he be able to pick up the pieces or will he give up? Can Dean help him move on while trying to stop the apocalypse?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story is going to be darker then other SN stories, I've written in the past. If you get upset by rape then this story might not be for you. Normally, I don't like to give away major plot details, but I wanted everyone to be warned, before they started reading, so that I wouldn't upset anyone. Also, this takes place after 5.03 Free to Be You and Me and it goes A/U from there.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to the wonderful Eric Kripke. The rest is just a figment of my imagination.

* * *

"Help me, Dean! Please, help me!"  
_  
Forty-eight Hours Earlier_

As Sam wiped down the bar, removing ring marks left by cold beers and the bits of pretzel crumbs, his mind wondered to a certain phone call earlier. He had finally summoned up the strength to call Dean. He had missed his brother something fierce these weeks that they had been apart, but had been reluctant to call him. Many times, Sam's finger held still over the button on the cell, but did not actually press it. Sure he wanted to talk to Dean, hear his voice, but he needed to get his head straight before he could do that. These weeks on his own, he had been able to do just that. But then the hunters came to the bar reminding Sam he could never really escape what happened. But at least he had resisted. With every fiber of his being he had resisted. Just like he was going to resist Lucifer. He was not going to become the vessel for the angel known the world over as Satan.

It had been wonderful to hear Dean's voice. He hadn't truly realized exactly how much he had missed his brother until he heard his voice on the phone. They had talked, really talked. The weeks apart had done them well and both knew that they were really to meet up in person. They decided to head to Bobby's. Sam as soon as he could and Dean when he finished up a small hunted he stumbled across.

Straightening up, Sam noticed the guy in the corner of the bar watching him, again. His name was Craig and he was a semi-regular. A long haul trucker who stopped in whenever his route passed through town. He stood about an inch taller than Sam and was broader in the chest, with dark brown hair cropped short enough to make a marine drill sergeant proud. His eyes were dark brown and when they passed appraisingly over Sam's body he felt a shiver of revulsion run through him. Every night for the better part of a week, he had come in and sat a table in the corner of the bar watching Sam. At first Sam thought he might have been a hunter here to seek revenge on him for the apocalypse, but realized different when he saw the man give him a thorough once over and lick his lips. Sam didn't swing that way and even if he did, Craig was way too creepy for his taste.

"Man, Keith, you sure schooled those kids," said Manny, the bartender on duty that night.

"Yeah, well, drunk frat guys are an easy mark," replied Sam as he patted his pocket. Earlier in the evening, a small group of college kids had stopped in the bar. A few rounds later and Sam had won some nice traveling money off of them. A small part of him felt that he should feel a little guilty about taking their money as they were more than a little drunk, but he knew the next day their fathers would be putting more drinking money into their banks accounts. So, the guilt melted away.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Sam wished it was quitting time. He was leaving that night, after work, catching a midnight bus to Bobby's. He only wished that he could say goodbye to Lindsay. After everything had gone down with the hunters attacking them in the bar, she needed time to deal and left to stay with her sister in South Carolina for a few weeks. Sam hoped that the letter he had written and left in her employee locker would convey everything he wanted it to.

He had come to care deeply for the young barmaid, but knew realistically that there could never be anything between them. Not with his future. The threat of becoming Lucifer's vessel hanging low over his head saw to that. Maybe it was for the best that Lindsay was not there when he left, not there for him to look in the eyes. But leaving was the right thing for him to do. It was time he got back to fighting the good fight. It was time he got back to his family, to Dean and Bobby.

Things had slowed down a bit, allowing Sam to grab the broom out of the back and start sweeping up some of the debris on the floor. When he had started this job, it felt strange to have a normal job. A few years back and he would have given anything to have this, but after Jess' death, he felt all of his chances for a normal life slip through his fingers. Eventually he became resigned to his fate, but for these past few weeks, it was nice to do something normal for a change. Sure he had kept up with his research and passed on a few leads to Bobby, but other than that nothing relating to hunting had taken place. It was what Sam needed. He needed to step back and get control of himself and his addiction. He really felt that he had. The incident with the hunters had proven that. After having demon blood forced down his throat, he resisted the urge to given into it. Then he had that visit from Lucifer and that sealed it for Sam. He needed to be back with his family so they could fight this together.

A hand on Sam's arm pulled him from his thoughts. Turning around, he found Craig standing way too close, a creepy smile on his face.

"You were really good hustling those kids earlier," said Craig. "How about joining me for another kind of hustling?"

Fighting hard to keep the revulsion he suddenly felt in his stomach down, Sam yanked his arm from Craig's grip and stepped back. "I'm not interested."

Craig leaned in close and in a low whisper said, "I could make it worth your while."

At that moment Sam wished, he was anywhere else. Anywhere this creepy guy wasn't. Luckily, in a couple of hours he would be out of there and on a bus heading to Bobby's. Until then, he would just have to hope that Craig would realize that making a pass at him was a lost cause. Moving to the side, Sam stood up as straight as he could to show off his height and muscles. Voice a low hiss, he replied, "I said, I'm not interested!"

Craig stood there and watched Sam walk away. His fingers itched to touch that fine specimen of a man. He was more than willing to do this the easy way, but it looked like Sam wanted the hard way. Oh well, more fun fore me, Craig thought.

**SNSNSN**

It was dark outside when Sam stepped out into the alley behind the bar. The spotlight over the door was out and no one had gotten around to changing it. Hoisting his laptop case over his shoulder, Sam made his down the dark alley that cut through to the bus station parking lot. A noise coming from his right had Sam giving a small jump. He let out a relieved chuckle when it it turned out to be a stray cat who was probably hanging around looking for some scraps that might fall from the dumpster. Taking pity on the poor creature, Sam opened up his bag and pulled out a turkey sandwich he had brought, to eat on the bus, with him. Breaking off a piece of the meat, he tossed it in the direction of the stray cat who immediately pounced on it. Momentarily distracted watching the cat, Sam never noticed the footsteps behind him. He didn't realize something was wrong until it was too late and a smelly cloth was being shoved over his mouth. Sam struggled against his attacker, but was quickly overtaken by blackness. After grabbing Sam's bags, his attacker pulled Sam over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and walked out of the alley to his awaiting car. To anyone who might have noticed, it looked like a guy carrying his drunk buddy to the car.

After placing Sam into the back of a borrowed SUV, Craig climbed into the front seat, a mile wide smile on his face.

_More to Come_

Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate it. Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Due to the graphic nature of this chapter, it is rated M.

* * *

Waking up in an unfamiliar room, Sam felt as if his head was wrapped in wool. Giving it a small shake, he tried to sit up only to realize his arms were handcuffed above him. It was then that Sam discovered that he was completely naked and handcuffed to a bed. Fear settled into his stomach as he tried in vain to release his hands.

"Baby boy, there's no need to struggle. You don't want to hurt yourself."

Sam turned his head to where the voice was coming from and saw Craig coming out of the bathroom.

"I was wondering when you were gonna waked up," said Craig as he began to unbutton his shirt. "I've been dying for a taste, but I controlled myself as I didn't want to start when you weren't awake to enjoy it."

As Craig continued to undress, it fully hit Sam what was about to happen him. His mind began racing as he tried to figure out a way out of his current situation.

"Help! Somebody, help me!" screamed Sam. "HELP!"

"Sweetheart, you can scream all you want, but you'll only make your throat sore," said Craig with a small laugh. "Here at the Moonlight Motel, screams are common and the clerk gets paid to mind his own business."

Climbing on the bed, Craig straddled Sam and leaned in to kiss him. Sam tried to turn his head away, but Craig grabbed it in his meaty hands. Holding him still, Craig roughly pressed his mouth against Sam's.

Struggling in vain, Sam tried to free his hands from the cuffs, but they were too tight and all he succeeded in doing was breaking the skin around his wrists. He began silently praying to anyone listening that what was about to happen stop. He would have tried calling out for Castiel, but the carving on his ribs made certain that the angel would not be able to find him.

"Baby boy, you taste just as sweet as I imagined." Craig pulled back from Sam with a smile on his face.

Tears began leaking from the corners of Sam's eyes as he realized that no amount of struggling or shouting was going to save him from his fate.

Climbing off of the young hunter, Craig reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a tube of lube. He could have spent the next couple of hours kissing Sam, but he was itching to move things to the next level. After slicking himself up with the barest amount of lube, Craig settled himself in between Sam's legs and spread them out wide.

"Please, don't do this," begged Sam. "Please, just let me go. Please, I won't tell anyone. I swear, I won't. Just please, don't do this."

Listening to Sam pleas, Craig smiled. He loved it when they begged as it always made it a little more sweeter. Leaning in close, he wiped the tears falling down Sam's face and thrust hard.

Pain ripping through him, Sam letting out a scream.

"Baby, you're just as tight as I hoped."

Sam cried the whole time. Nearing the end, he passed out from the pain only to wake a short time later with Craig seeking a repeat performance.

The hours blended together until Sam was unable to tell how long he had been trapped in that motel room. How was he going to get out of there? He had struggle with the handcuffs until his wrist were bloody and his arms sore, but nothing happened. He thought that if he asked to go to the bathroom, he could try and make a break for it, but where would he go? It was slim shot, but he had to take. It turned out to be futile when Craig had insisted on accompanying him to the bathroom. He practically had to carry Sam as his sore body protested the movement. As soon as he was finished, Sam was forced to lie on his stomach and his left arm was was once again cuffed to the bed.

"You know, all this fun has worked me up a thirst," said Craig as he stood up and reached for his wallet. Grabbing a couple of bills, he tossed on his pants. With a wink and a chuckle, he told Sam not to go anywhere and slipped out the door.

As soon as the door was shut, Sam started looking around for a way out of there when he noticed his cell phone was on the beside table farthest from from him. It was a struggle to reach it, his sore body protesting the movement, but Sam was able to grab it. Collapsing against the bed, the first person to come to mind was his brother. Flipping the phone open, Sam dialed.

**SNSNSN**

Dean had been having a good couple of days. He had received a tip from Rufus about ghost haunting a foreclosed house and for once a simple salt and burn was just that, simple. With the apocalypse going on, it might seem pointless to take on a hunt with a ghost, but with two people already dead and a third clinging to life support, Dean knew he had to do something. But the real reason for the spring in his step was Sam. Despite what he had told Castiel, he had missed his brother. Sure the time apart was needed and even wanted, but in the end, Dean realized he wanted to be back with his brother. Things would be different this time around, but Dean knew if he was going to fight the apocalypse, he wanted Sam fighting right along side him.

Pulling his ringing phone out of his pocket, Dean smiled when he saw it was Sam. The kid probably wanted to let him know that he had arrived at Bobby's. "Hey, Sammy."

"Help me, Dean! Please, help me!"

"Sam?"

"Dean, please, help me!"

Icy, cold fear gripped Dean's heart as he listened to Sam pleas. "Sam, what's going on? Where are you?"

"Please, Dean, come get me."

Trying to stay calm, Dean talked softly to his brother. "Alright, I'll come Sammy, but you have to tell me where you are."

"The Moonlight motel." Sam glanced at the door to the room. "Room 6."

"Sam, what's going on?" asked Dean. "What town are you in?"

Suddenly, Sam was silent and Dean strained to hear something, anything over the phone to indicate what situation Sam was in. It was then that he heard a male voice.

"Sammy?" cried Dean. "SAM!"

**SNSNSN**

"What the hell?" growled Craig as he caught Sam on the phone. Dropping his soda to the floor, he pulled the cell phone out of his captive's hand. He could hear someone screaming the name Sam. Grabbing the pair of handcuffs off the nightstand, Craig cuffed Sam's free hand to the headboard once again.

"Who's Dean?" asked Craig as he stared at the phone's display screen.

Sam didn't say anything as he didn't want that bastard to know anything about his brother.

Grasping Sam's head, he jerked it back until he could look in Sam's eyes. "I'm not gonna ask you again. Who is Dean?"

"Brother," gasped out Sam. "He's my brother."

"Your brother?" replied Craig. "This could be fun."

Standing up, Craig stripped out of his clothes. Climbing back on the bed, he pushed Sam's legs apart and settled himself. Pushing the call button, Craig held the phone up to Sam's face. As soon as Dean answered, Craig thrust in causing Sam to scream out in pain. "Talk," he growled in Sam's ear.

**SNSNSN**

"Sammy?" Dean felt his stomach start rolling as he heard his brother's screams. His body started shaking as he realized that something bad was happening to Sam. Listening to Sam screaming, he could hear a man's voice in the background. _Tell him, baby, tell your brother how much you like this. _Then the line went dead. "No! Sammy!"

His entire body started shaking as he realized just how serious Sam's situation was. It sounded like Sam was being... No, Dean was not going to go there. Right now, he needed to be in rescue mode, not fear and worry mode.  
**  
SNSNSN**

Sighing, Craig stared at the body sprawled out below him. His boy had passed out, again. He had to do something about that, but what? Climbing off the bed, he headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up. A taser, he needed a taser, because a couple of jolts of that would bring his boy back when he passed out. He decided he'd pay a visit to his friend Jeb. The man owed him a favor after being helped out of a jam involving a fourteen year old girl. Jeb had a couple of tasers and getting him to lend him one would be no problem.

After checking to make sure the cuffs were still secured tightly around Sam's wrists, Craig pocketed Sam's cellphone. Don't need a repeat of earlier. With one last glance at his prize, Craig exited the room, leaving Sam passed out face down on the bed.

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please, let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Eyes focused on the road in front of him, Dean fought to keep himself under control. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to get to Sammy right now. If some son of a bitch had hurt his brother, he was going to kill them.

Needing to know what town Sam was in, Dean had called Sam's cell phone provider. Once again, he used the story of being a worried parent looking for his diabetic son. It worked like a charm and Dean was quickly on his way. Luckily, it turned out that Dean was only a couple of hours away from Sam, but with the way Dean drove he got there in under an hour and a half.

Pulling into the first empty spot he saw, Dean jumped out of the car and scanned around until he figured out in which direction room six was. He had thought of going to the front desk and ID himself as a cop or maybe a federal agent, but having been around enough no-tell motels in his life, he knew there was a good chance that the clerk would alert whoever was in the room with Sam.

Standing in front of room 6, Dean took a deep breath and knocked. When he got no answer, he pulled out his trusty lock pick and within seconds had the door unlocked. Steeling himself, he pushed the door open. The sight that greeted him shook Dean to his core, a handcuffed Sam laying face down on the only bed in the room, a sheet covering only the lower half of his naked body.

Rushing across the room, Dean quickly uncuffed Sam's arms and gently lowered them to the bed. He was upset to see all the blood around Sam's wrists.

"No more, p-please, no more." Sam's voice was slightly slurred as he spoke and he tried to move away not realizing that his brother was there and Craig was gone.

"Hey, Sammy, it's okay." Dean spoke in a gentle voice, keeping his tone soft as he didn't want to scare his brother.

"No, please."

Dean's heart clenched at the fear he could hear in Sam's voice. "Sammy, it's me. It's Dean."

"Dean?" The fog surrounding Sam's mind was slowly beginning to lift.

"I'm here, Sammy. I'm here."

"Dean?" Sam blinked slowly almost unable to believe the sight in front of him. "You're really here?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here."

Sam broke down crying. Whether is was relief over being rescued or was caused by the horrors inflicted on him, Dean wasn't sure. All he knew right now was that he needed to get Sam out of there before the bastard who hurt him returned. Then he would find them another motel so nearby so he could help Sam clean up and patch up his injuries.

"Sammy, do you think you can sit up?" asked Dean as he crouched down in front of his brother.

When Sam didn't respond, Dean reached over and gently grasped Sam's arm. His heart clenched when Sam flinched at the movement. As Dean was helping Sam to sit up, the sheet draped across the lower half of Sam's body shift revealing thighs that had blood on them. 'Oh God," mumbled Dean as he realized that this was no longer going to be a motel room patch up job. He needed to get Sam to the hospital.

Looking around the room for something to dress Sam in, Dean spotted his duffel bag. Rooting around in it, Dean found a pair of sweatpants which would be much more comfortable to wear than a pair of jeans. Dean tried to help Sam sit up, but his sore body protested the movement and Dean knew that Sam would be unable to put pressure on his backside. So as Sam was lying on the bed, Dean slipped the pants on him.

If it weren't for Dean's arm around him, Sam would have collapsed to the ground when he stood up. His legs were like jelly and Dean practically had to carry him to the car. After getting Sam situated as best he could across the backseat, Dean ran back into the motel room to grab Sam's duffel bag and laptop.

Luckily, on the way motel, Dean had driven past a hospital and knew exactly where to go. The soft whimpers of pain coming from Sam in the backseat were heartbreaking for Dean to hear. In an effort to calm his brother, Dean spoke words of reassurances the whole way to the hospital. Pulling up in front of the large brick building, Dean followed the signs pointing the way to the emergency room.

Pulling the Impala to a hasty stop in front of the automatic doors, Dean jumped out ready to scream for help. Fortunately, two paramedics who had just finished a run were exiting the building at that exact moment and rushed over to help.

"What's going on, sir," said a tall paramedic named Ned.

"My brother, he's hurt," replied Dean as opened the door to the backseat.

"Can you tell us what happened," asked a petite, blonde paramedic named Rita.

"He was raped." Dean took a shuddering breath. "There's, umm, there's some blood and he can't stand up."

Ned ran back inside the hospital to grab a gurney and tell a nurse to get the doctor on duty out there. Once back outside, Ned and Dean helped Sam up on the gurney where he lay on his side.

A short, brown haired man in a white lab coat appeared. He immediately began assessing Sam as the gurney was wheeled into the hospital by Ned and Rita. "I'm Dr. Spellman, and I'm going to be treating your brother. Can you tell me what happened to uh ..."

"Sam, his name's Sam," replied Dean.

"Can you tell me what happened to Sam?" Normally, Dr. Spellman would ask the patient. but Sam seemed so distraught that the doctor knew he wouldn't be able to get much out of him.

Dean couldn't quite explain it, but there was something about Dr. Spellman that set him at ease. He just knew that Sam was in good hands. "Sam and I were supposed to meet up at our uncle's house. I was about to start heading there when I got a phone call from Sam begging for help." Dean couldn't help, but close his eyes for a moment. He knew as long as he lived he would never forget the sound of his little brother's voice begging him for help. "When I got to where Sam said he was, I found him handcuffed to a bed in a motel room."

"This wouldn't be the Moonlight Motel, would it?" asked Dr. Spellman.

"Yeah." Dean was surprised that the doctor knew the motel and would have questions for him later, but right now he needed to be focused on Sam. "He was naked and there was blood on his legs."

The gurney came to a stop in front of double swinging doors. At that point the doctor turned to Dean and told him he would have to stay behind. He could tell Dean was going to protest, but he knew that from experience that Dean did not need to see the exam take place. "Dean, I promise, I'm going to take good care of Sam." Turning around, the doctor motioned to a nurse standing next to the check-in desk.

A short, heavyset, brunette nurse, named Hedda, came walking over. "Honey, why don't you come with me and I'll get you situated in the family room. I just put on a fresh pot of coffee."

"I don't wanna leave Sam." Dean watched as his brother was wheeled through the double doors.

"Your brother is in good hands," replied Hedda. "Dr. Spellman is an excellent doctor and he's going to take good care of Sam."

Dean gave a small nod and followed the nurse. He really wanted to be by Sam's side, but at the first sign that Sam was in pain or upset by the what the doctor was doing, he was going to want to yank the doctor away from Sam and the exam would never get finished.

The family room at Community General was designed to put patients' families at ease. With overstuffed chairs and extra large sofas, the seating was very comfortable. There were two coffee makers, one for regular and one for decaf. Plus, several vending machines which offered an array of snacks and beverages. Taking a seat in a dark blue chair that face the doorway so he could see the doctor when he walked in, Dean began to play the dreaded waiting game.

_More to Come_

Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time that Sam was being wheeled into a private room, he had fallen asleep. Dr. Spellman had been as gentle as he could during the exam in the hopes that his patient wouldn't become to upset and require sedation. But by the time he was finished, the doctor could see the toll taken on Sam and he decided to give his patient a mild sedative so he could get some much needed rest.

It was never easy to perform a rape kit on patient and Dr. Spellman knew it was just the beginning for Sam. He had drawn some blood to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Sam would need to get tested again in two weeks and then he would need to be tested again for aids in six months. They were necessary precautions, but the doctor knew they would also be a painful reminder of the horror his patient had gone through.  
**  
SNSNSN**

Nearly out of his mind with worry, by the time Dr. Spellman walked in to the family room, Dean practically leaped at the man. He had to restrain himself from grabbing the doctor and demanding answers. Taking a deep breath, Dean steeled himself as best as he could to be prepared for what Dr. Sepllman had to say. "How's Sammy?"

"Right now, your brother's resting. I gave him a mild sedative so he should be asleep for a while."

"How bad is um..." Dean cleared his throat having a hard time asking how badly Sam was injured. "How bad is he hurt, down there?"

"There was some tearing which was where the blood came from and he required some stitches." The doctor began to explain Sam's injuries and his treatment.

Dean fought to keep himself composed as he listened to Dr. Spellman. When the man started mentioning blood tests, it hit Dean hard. His brother, his Sammy, could have contracted a fatal disease. By the time that Dr. Spellman had finished talking, Dean swore to himself that Sam's rapist was a dead man.

**SNSNSN**

Walking into Sam's room, Dean grabbed a chair and pulled it up close to the bed. Sam was lying on his side with a few pillows line up behind him. Dean figured this was in case Sam rolled over, he wouldn't hurt his tender backside. He noticed that Sam had gauze wrapped around his wrists where they had been cut by the handcuffs. He was relieved when the doctor told him that they wouldn't be scarred. The last thing Sam needed visual reminder of what he'd been through.

Dean couldn't help, but notice how young Sam looked when he slept. It had been a long time since Dean had really taken a good look as his brother. When he returned from hell, he was too busy pretending he was okay to really stop and think about how his death affected Sam. They were together, but their relationship was so fractured that it eventually fell apart. And now when they're both in a place where they're ready to start being brothers again, this happens. Dean's mind was still swirling trying to take in everything Dr. Spellman told him. Stitches, watching for infections, testing for STDs, it was all buzzing through his brain and Dean was trying not to explode with rage. That was the one thing Sam didn't need right now.

**SNSNSN**

Dean spent the next couple of hours watching Sam sleep. Every time he heard whimper or moan of pain come from his brother, Dean would whisper reassurances in Sam's ear as he stoked his hand gently up and down Sam's back. It was movement remembered from childhood. Whenever Sam had a nightmare, as a child, he would climb in Dean's bed. Snuggling close, Sam would take comfort in his big brother's presence as Dean rubbed his back.

He didn't want to leave Sam's side for even a moment, but when his stomach let out a growl, Dean realized that it had been hours since he last had something to eat. Recalling seeing a vending machine just down the hall, Dean told his still sleeping brother he'd be back and headed out of the room.

He really wasn't in the mood for anything, but Dean knew he needed to eat something so he selected the the strawberry pop tarts hoping that snack would hold him over for a while. As he reached for his change, the quarter slipped through his fingers and rolled under the machine and coming out on the side. Dean walked around the vending machine and crouched down to retrieve it. Just as he was about to stand up, he heard voices headed his way. He recognized one of them as Sam's doctor.

"This is the fourth man to come in here this month showing signs of rape," said Dr. Spellman.

"Jack, you know we are working on it," replied a dark haired police detective named Phil Davis.

"Working on it? Come on, Phil, we have a serial rapist on the loose. We need to get the word out. Tell men to be extra careful when out at night."

"Serial rapist? Don't you think that's a bit premature? We haven't even got the DNA results back from the lab on last two guys. For all we know it might not be the same man," said Phil. "And everyone knows which way Calvin swings. How do we know he was really raped?"

"I don't know, how about the fact that his rectum was so torn up he required surgery to repair it? Just because a man is gay doesn't mean he can't be raped." Extremely upset by the cavalier attitude of Detective Davis, Dr. Spellman knew he would be filing a formal complaint with the man's superior.

Standing on the other side of the vending machine, Dean took in the whole conversation. His blood starting boiling at the realization that the police knew someone was targeting the men in this town and weren't doing anything about. If Sam had known what going on, he would have been more careful. Right now, that bastard who hurt Sam could be picking his next victim.

Sick to his stomach, Dean emerged from the shadows and marched right up to the police officer ready to give him a piece of his mind. "You knew. You knew there was someone targeting men and what do you do about it? Nothing. Not one damn thing!"

"Who the hell are you?" growled Officer Davis.

"Dean." Dr. Spellman placed a a hand on Dean's shoulder in comfort. He was sorry his patient's brother had to hear that, but at least the truth was getting out there.

Dean barely noticed Dr. Spellman's touch, the rage in him so sharp and so acute. "My brother gets raped, in your town, and you don't even care. How many men have to suffer and be hurt for you to something about it, huh? Cause, apparently, four's not enough for you."

Before the detective could reply, Dean stalked off in the direction of Sam's room lest he be arrested for assaulting a police officer.

**SNSNSN**

Dean was relieved to find Sam was still asleep as he didn't want his brother to wake up alone. He hadn't planned on being gone for as long as he had, but when he heard what that detective was saying he couldn't remain quiet. The bastard who raped Sam had been preying on men in this town for at least a month and the police hadn't felt the need to do anything about. God, what if the police had actually given a damn, maybe Sam wouldn't have been hurt. Dean was fighting hard to not scream as he felt a rage building up inside. Mumbles from Sam pulled Dean from his thoughts and he turned his attention to his brother who seemed to be stuck in a nightmare.

"No. Please stop." Sam was becoming more agitated in his sleep, but due to the sedative, he did not wake up.

"Shh, Sam, it's okay." Leaning over, Dean began rubbing his hand up and down Sam's back to comfort him. "You're safe. Sammy, you're safe."

The soothing sound of Dean's voice lulled Sam back into a more restful state of sleep and Dean kept rubbing his brother's back until his arm became sore from the motion. Even then he didn't stop.

_More to Come_

thank you for reading. Reviews are always great appreciated. Please take a moment to let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm so sorry that I've taken to long to update. RL has been busy and my muse as been a little wonky lately.

* * *

It was one of the best days of his life for Sam. A heavy snow fall the night before had blanketed the town that they were staying in. Practically everything was closed, including the school Sam and Dean were attending and the garage John was working at. If that wasn't enough, Sam's favorite movie, _the Goonies_, was airing. Curled up on the sofa, next to his dad and Dean, Sam was having a blast, even if his brother was throwing popcorn at him. Life doesn't get any better than this, he thought.

"Sam, which one do you think is hotter Andy or Stef? Because sure Kerri Green is smokin' but underneath the glasses, Martha Plimpton's probably got it goin' on."

Sam gave a groan. "Is that all you think ever about, Dean?"

"No, sometimes I wonder why Brand is wearing shorts over his sweatpants. I mean what is the point of covering up with sweatpants and then putting on shorts."

"Maybe that's what they did in the olden days," replied Sam. "Is that how you used to dress, Dad?"

"Sam, this movie isn't nearly as old as Dad," said Dean with a snicker. "Dad probably wore bell bottoms and platform shoes."

The thought of their dad in bell bottoms and platform shoes had the brothers cracking up.

"I've have you know I never dressed like that," said John trying and failing to sound stern.

"Oh, yeah, what did you wear?" asked Sam through his laughter.

_"Baby boy, you are so good. So so good."_

"No, not here," whispered Sam. He turned to his left and instead of seeing his dad, he saw Craig's smiling face. His family's old apartment morphed into room 6 of the Moonlight Motel. No, he wasn't supposed to be here. He was safe here. Dean said he was safe here.

After hours spent keeping watch over his brother, Dean started drifted off, only to be brought back by noises coming from his brother. He sat up to find Sam thrashing in his sleep. To Dean, it looked like his brother was fighting off an unseen attacker.

"No! Stop!" Sam's hands started moving as he if he was fighting off his rapist.

"Sammy, it's okay." Gently, Dean grasped Sam's arms before he could hit something and hurt himself.

Struggling against his brother's hold, Sam started coming around. He blinked his eyes open and and the sight of Dean he stopped his struggling.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean kept his voice soft so Sam wouldn't be frightened.

"Dean?" Sam's voiced sounded scratchy and hoarse.

Grabbing a cup off the table next Sam's bed, Dean poured some ice water into it. "Here Sammy, take a sip."

Sam's throat was so dry and he greedily drank the water, stopping only when Dean pulled the glass way so that Sam wouldn't choke. Looking around the room, Sam took in his surroundings and realized he was in hospital room. Despite the fact that he had been a sleep for several hours or maybe because of it, Sam mind was a little muddled and he scrunched his face in confusion. "How'd I get here?"

"You called me, Sam and I got the phone company to track you down."

Suddenly, it all came back to Sam. The motel room, being handcuffed to the bed, Craig raping him. "Oh God!"

Seeing Sam's breathing beginning to speed up had Dean fearing that his brother would have a panic attack. Speaking in a soft voice, Dean murmured reassurances as he rubbed hand up and down Sam's back. After a few intense moments, Sam began to calm down.

"Sammy, I'm just gonna call the doctor," said Dean as he pressed the call button.

Sam looked positively frightened when Dr. Spellman walked into the room. Grasping the blanket, he pulled it all the way up to his chin.

"Sammy, don't be scared. It's just Dr. Spellman," said Dean. "He's been taking care of you."

"Sam, it's nice to see you awake," said Dr. Spellman speaking softly as he cautiously approached Sam's bed so as not to frighten the young man anymore than he already was. "How are you feeling?"

Instead of responding, Sam just curled in on himself.

"Sammy, it's okay. Dr. Spellman is one of the good guys," said Dean.

Getting no response from his brother, Dean leaned in closer. "Sam, it's okay. You're safe here. Can you let the doctor take a look at you?"

Sam had a look of pure terror one his face and he shook his head. "No, please, no."

Dean's heart broke at the sound of fear in Sam's voice. "Sammy, you know I wouldn't let anyone near if I didn't think they were okay, right?"

Sam gave a small nod.

"Then, please, let Dr. Spellman take a look at you." Dean picked up Sam's hand in his. "I'll be here the whole time."

Sam wrapped his fingers around Dean's hand and squeezed tight. Tears fell down his face and he had to bite his lips to keep from screaming. It wasn't that Dr. Spellman wasn't being gentle because he was, it just that it was reminder of what Craig had done to him. By the time the doctor was finished, Sam was so exhausted by his fear that he had begun drifting off. Once Sam's breathing had begun to even out and his eyes had closed, Dean safe to leave his brother side for a moment to talk with the doctor who was waiting right outside the room.

"So, how is he?" asked Dean.

"A couple spots look a little red around the sutures," replied Dr. Spellman. "I'm gonna have the nurse check on them in an hour to see if they have gotten any worse."

"Can it be Hedda?" asked Dean. He had taken a liking to the nurse who had been kind to him while he was waiting for Sam's examination to finish. If anyone besides Dr. Spellman would be touching Sam then he wanted it to be Hedda.

"Sure." Dr. Spellman glanced at his watch. "Her shift starts in a hour. I'll be in a meeting by then so I'll leave a message at the desk that she's to check on Sam."

"Thank you."

Dr. Spellman gave a nod and turned to leave.

"Hey, Doc?"

"Yes."

"Would it be okay if I got Sam some sweatpants to wear? You know, instead of the gown he's wearing now." Dean felt Sam would be more comfortable if he was able to cover himself up more, but he didn't know if sweatpants would be good for his brother's sore backside.

"Fleece sweatpants would be fine or flannel pajama bottoms," replied the doctor. "There's a Target across the street. I think you'll be able to find what you need there."

Going back into Sam's room to find his brother in a seemingly peaceful sleep, Dean decided to take a quick trip to to Target. Since he only needed a couple of things, Dean figured he had time to get back before Sam woke up. Little did he know, Dean would end up regretting that he left.

**SNSNSN**

The tall male nurse placed his stethoscope around his his neck and closed the door to his locker. Stepping out of the nurses lounge, the dark-haired man headed for the nurses station.

"Hey, Oscar, what are you doing here?" asked the desk clerk on duty that night, a heavyset man named Jerry.

"Hedda had a family emergency, so I'm covering for her," replied Oscar. "How is the floor looking tonight?"

"It's been kinda slow. Dr. Spellman just finished his rounds." Jerry pointed to a small stack of charts lying on the the desk. "He left a couple of instructions for Hedda, but since you're covering her shift, I guess they're for you now."

Oscar picked up the first chart in the pile, which happened to be Sam's, opened it up to the page flagged with a red sticky note.

**SNSNSN**

What supposed to be a quick and easy trip to Target for Dean turned out to be anything, but quick and easy. He had located the men's clothing section and found a couple of pairs of flannel pajamas that looked like they would fit Sam. Then he found some fleece pants and topped it off with a couple of long-sleeved t-shirts. Glancing at his watch, Dean figured he'd have enough time to grab some snacks so he wouldn't have to keep hitting up the vending machine. He didn't know how long Sam was going to be in the hospital and he didn't want to blow all of his cash buying stale chips at the hospital.

In less than twenty-five minutes, Dean had everything he needed and proceeded to the checkout. There was only two registers that were open so Dean got into the shortest line. It was then that everything went downhill. The lady in front of Dean, who looked to be about eighty-five, was buying a five pack of pantyhose and had to pull each pair out and inspect them for runs. Dean gave a groan and looked over at the other line. The light over the register was flashing which meant that line wasn't moving either. After what felt like an eternity, pantyhose lady, as Dean named her in his mind, was satisfied with her stockings and paid for them. Then when Dean thought he was finally about to be rung up, a shift change happened and he had to wait for the register to be changed out. When the new cashier decided to individually fold the articles of clothing before bagging them is when Dean snapped. Grabbing them out of her hands he shoved them into a bag and tossed it into his cart. By the time he was finished in the store, an hour has passed and Dean prayed that Sam still asleep as he didn't want his brother to wake up alone.

**SNSNSN**

Oscar walked in the room to find the patient still asleep. He had read over Sam's chart to familiarize himself with what the young man was being treated for. He couldn't believe there had been another rape. When are the police going to do their job in this town? Normally, Oscar had the utmost respect for people in law enforcement, but right now he was disgusted with the attitude they were taking over the rapes, especially Jack Davis'. Since HIPAA regulations prohibited him from talking about the rapes, the most he could do was warn his male friends to be careful when they were out late which was what he did.

Not wanting to scare his patient should he wake up while his sutures were being checked, Oscar gave Sam a gentle shake. "Mr Young?"

Feeling a slight tug on his shoulder pulled Sam from his slumber. Slowly, he blinked his eyes and looked around the room for Dean. Fear started gripping him when he realized his brother wasn't there.

"Mr. Young, I just need to check your sutures and then you can go back to sleep," said Oscar.

Sam panicked when the nurse started to pull the blanket off of him. "No! Stop!"

Seeing his patient's obvious distress, Oscar dropped the blanket and took a step back. It was important that he check the sutures, but he didn't want to upset the young man anymore then he was. Unfortunately, it was too late for that.

**SNSNSN**

Cursing himself for taking so long at the store, Dean hurried fast as he could to get back to Sam's room. Walking into his brother's room, Dean found a man he didn't know standing over Sam who looked to be in the beginning stages of a panic attack.

"Hey, you, get away from my brother!" growled Dean as he raced to his brother's side.

"D-Dean," gasped out Sam.

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

_"D-Dean," gasped out Sam._

"I'm here, Sammy. I'm here." Dean knelt down so he would eye level with his brother. It broke his heart to see the unrestrained fear in his brother's eyes.

"Don't let him hurt me, please Dean, please!" Sam tried to move from his bed, but his body was still so sore, he could barely move more than a couple inches.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, Dean grasped Sam's hand. "Sammy, you're safe here. I swear, you're safe here and he can't hurt you anymore."

Thinking it wise, Oscar had backed away from the bed, which did not go unnoticed by Dean.

"Get out of here!" growled Dean.

"I still need to check the sutures," replied Oscar.

"Get Dr. Spellman," said Dean. "From now on, he's going to be the only one who comes near my brother."

Oscar was about to say something, but the glare on Dean's face was enough to keep him quiet. He exited the room and headed straight for the nurses station where he asked Jerry to page Dr. Spellman.

**SNSNSN**

Walking into his patient's room, Dr. Spellman found Dean trying to calm his brother down while at the same time trying to reign in his anger.

"I told you I wanted Hedda to be Sam's nurse," hissed Dean.

"I'm so sorry," replied Dr. Spellman sincerely. "I didn't know Hedda had switched shifts with Oscar due to a family emergency.

Turning his full attention back to Sam, Dean was relived to see that his brother was no longer shaking. He took this as a hopeful sign that Sam was starting to calm down.

Knowing how upset his patient was, Dr. Spellman made quick work of checking Sam's sutures. He was relieved to see the redness he spotted earlier had faded as this meant an infection hadn't taken hold. Still he would write up a script for an antibiotic cream as a precaution.

"Sammy, I'm just gonna talk to Dr. Spellman for a moment. I'll be right out in the hallway. Okay?" Dean could see the panic flash across Sam's face and he had to fight to not cry at the sight. "Sammy, I'm promise, I'm not going far. Just outside and I'll be right back. I swear." Dean already made the mistake of leaving Sam once; he wasn't going to make that mistake twice.

Walking into the hallway, Dean made sure to stand where he had a good view of his brother. For the time being, he wasn't going to let Sam out of his sight.

Dr. Spellman was prepared for Dean to yell at him. He genuinely hadn't known that Hedda wouldn't be working, but he knew that when it came to his brother, Dean was like a lion looking out for his cub. And after what Sam had been through, he didn't blame the older Winchester.

"I wanna yell at you, but for Sam's sake I'm going to refrain." Right now, Dean was all about Sam and what he needed. Dean's anger didn't factor into that. "How is he? Are the sutures infected?"

"Fortunately, the redness has gone down and is barely noticeable. I think Sam is out of the woods as far as infections go, but I'm still going to keep checking just to be sure."

"I want you to be the one to check. From now on, I don't want anyone else going near my brother."

The doctor nodded in agreement. Some doctors would scoff at being talked to like that, but Dr. Spellman knew that Dean was just concerned for his brother.

Walking back into the room, Dean could see the toll the stress had taken on Sam as he was already starting to drift to sleep. "Rest now, Sammy, I'll be here when you wake."

Ever since the moment his dad has placed Sam in his arms, Dean has felt responsible for him. Sometimes, the weight of that responsibility could be near suffocating. It was part of the reason why he and Sam had needed to get away from each other for a while. However, this time wanting to help Sam was not about feeling a responsibility to do so, it was about wanting to help his heavily traumatized brother move on from what happened to him. What scared Dean is that he had no idea how to even begin doing that.

**SNSNSN**

"Hey, Sammy, you hungry at all?" asked Dean.

The only response Sam gave was a a small shake of his head. He had been awake for a while, but all he did was lay on his side and stare at the wall. When the meal cart arrived, Dean hoped that the tray of food might spark some interest in Sam, but his brother had no appetite.

"Are you sure?"

Sam's only response was to curl in on himself. Pull the blanket covering him up to chin, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him.

Dean's heart ached for Sam over the obvious distress he could see lining his brother's face. He felt utterly helpless inside. How did he help Sam? How did he help his brother come back from being brutally raped?

Dean felt so alone in that moment and wished his dad was there. While the man might not have been perfect, he loved his children deeply and Dean wouldn't have felt so alone. As he watched his brother sleep, it occurred to Dean that he wasn't as alone as he thought. Stepping away from Sam's bed, Dean headed into the bathroom. Leaving the door open, so he could see Sam, Dean pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed his number two contact.

"Hello?"

"Bobby?"

"Dean? Where the hell are you?" Although he tried to mask it, the fear still came through in Bobby's voice. "Sam never made it here and I can't get a hold of him."

"Bobby..." Dean's voice wavered slightly and he fought not to cry.

"Dean, son, what is it?"

"It's Sam."

"Is Sam okay?" Fear for the youngest Winchester crept through in Bobby's voice.

"No, he's not."

"Dean, talk to me," Bobby prodded gently. "Where are you?"

"In a hospital." Dean's voice had a slight hitch in it. "Sammy was... he was, um, he was raped."

"Dear God!" Bobby couldn't believe what he just heard. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I talked to Sam and he said he was going to be heading for your place as soon as his shift ended. I got caught up in my finishing my hunt and didn't realize that it had been almost two days since I had heard from Sam. I thought he was at your place when I got a phone call from him begging for help." Dean had to fight back the tears as he related to Bobby everything that had happened since he had received Sam's phone call.

"Oh Dean..." Bobby didn't know what to say. There were no words to convey bad he felt about happened to Sam.

"Bobby, do you think once Sam's out of the hospital, we could come stay with you for a while?"

"Dean, you don't even need to ask." Bobby's door was always open for the two hunters who were like sons to him.

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean hoped that an extended stay at Bobby's home, which had always been a safe haven for them, would be beneficial to Sam's recovery. Dean decided right then and there that Sam was going to recover from his rape. He knew it would be a long road for Sam, one he wouldn't travel alone. Dean just didn't realize how bumpy the road could be.

_More to Come_

Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean awoke to the sound of hushed arguing outside Sam's room. Getting up as quietly as he could, he walked out into the hallway. There he found Dr. Spellman engaged in a serious conversation with Detective Davis. Oh hell no! thought Dean. There was no way in hell this jerk was getting anywhere near Sam. Reaching behind him, Dean grasped the door knob and pulled the door shut as quietly as he could.

"Come on, Jack, you know I need to question him," said Detective Davis.

"Phil, my patient is still way too traumatized. There is no way he would be up for answering any questions you have."

"If he was raped..."

Dean nearly lost it at the word if, at the underlying implication that Sam might not have really been raped. "There's no if about it. My brother was raped."

"You again," growled Davis. "Why are you still here? Didn't visiting hours end half an hour ago?"

Dean couldn't help, but shake his head. This guy must he crazy if he thinks Dean would leave his brother all alone in the hospital after having been raped.

"Not that it's any of your business, Phil, but Dean has my permission to stay past visiting hours." Dr. Spellman never talked about it with Dean, but the detective didn't need to know that. Plus, he had no intention of asking the younger man to leave. Not when his brother needed him so badly.

"If you want me to catch this guy, then I need to talk to the last person who was with him."

"With him? My brother was not with him. He was raped by that bastard." Dean was getting angrier by the second because he could tell by the way Detective Davis was talking and acting that he saw this something not worth putting any real effort into. His brother getting raped was merely an inconvenience to this jerk. That was exactly why Dean didn't want the man talking to Sam. He would end up making Sam think that it was his fault he got raped.

"Then that's why I need to talk to your brother," said the detective with an exasperated sigh.

"No!" growled Dean. "You are not getting near my brother."

"If you want me to catch the guy who your brother says hurt him, then I need to speak with him," said Detective Davis.

"My brother hasn't said anyone one hurt him. He has been so traumatized that he has barely said a word to me other than when a male nurse tried to check his injuries and my brother panicked. He is in no shape to speak to anyone right now, least of all you. I will not let you traumatize him any further than he already is." With a hard glare, Dean turned around and walked back into Sam's room shutting the door behind him.

Dean wanted Sam's rapist caught. He didn't want another man to suffer the way Sam did, but from the way the way the detective talked, there was no way the police were going to catch the bastard who hurt Sam. Hell, Dean figured that Detective Davis probably saw this all as a colossal waste of time. Someone with that attitude was not getting anywhere near his brother. He would do way more harm than good to Sam's fragile psyche.

**SNSNSN**

"Phil, I think it would be best if you left," said Dr. Spellman.

"Can I at least see the man's medical chart?"

"Are you serious? That's a major HIPAA violation and against the law. You know better than to ask that," admonished Dr. Spellman.

"You know, I keep hearing how people want this guy caught, but no one seems willing to help," said the detective with a sneer.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare say that. I encouraged Calvin Springs to report his rape, which he did, only for you to treat him terribly. I want this bastard caught, but I will not compromise my patient's well being nor will I violate doctor/patient privilege. You had been given information to work with. You just don't care."

Phil Davis was steaming on the inside. How dare Jack talk to him like that? How dare the doctor suggest that he wasn't doing his job? The detective really wanted to say something, but he didn't want to get another verbal lashing from his boss like he had that afternoon. He didn't know what more he could do. There was no DNA evidence from any of the rapes and the idea of serial rapist targeting their town was laughable to him.

**SNSNSN**

A soft knock on the door pulled Dean from his musings and he looked up to see Dr. Spellman's heading poking into the room. After getting a small nod from Dean, the man entered the room.

"Dean..."

"I don't want jerk anywhere near my brother," said Dean in a hissed whisper.

"Don't worry," replied Dr. Spellman. "I have no intention of letting him him near Sam."

Dean couldn't help the look of shock that appeared on his face. Surely the doctor wanted the police to catch the serial rapist. "Really?'

"Don't misunderstand me, I want the rapist caught before he hurts someone else, but I will not put Sam's well being in jeopardy to do that. Right now, your brother is in no shape to deal with Detective Davis."

Deep down inside, Dean feared that Sam would never be able to deal with what happened to him, but he kept that to himself. "So Doc, when do you think Sam can be sprung from this place?"

"Well, physically, your brother is well enough to be discharged in the morning."

"Good, then first thing in the morning, Sam and I are leaving." Dean really appreciated everything the good doctor had done for his brother, but he knew they shouldn't overstay their welcome at the hospital. Plus, Dean wanted to make sure that Detective Davis didn't get anywhere near Sam.

Doctor Spellman couldn't help the sigh that escaped him. Sure Sam was doing well physically, but mentally that was a different story. However, the doctor could could tell by the determined look on Dean's face that he and Sam would be leaving town as soon possible. He wished that they would stay longer, that Sam would stay longer, but these days, insurance companies didn't want to pay for extended hospital stays. "Are you staying somewhere around here?"

"No. We'll being heading to our uncle's place in South Dakota," said Dean. "It's a safe place for Sam."

"Where at in South Dakota?"

Dean quirked an eyebrow at the doctor's question.

"Don't worry, I'm not trying to keep an eye on you, it's just that I have a friend from med school who runs a clinic in South Dakota. Sam will need to have his stitches removed and the clinic does testings for STDs."

"Our uncle leaves in Sioux Falls." Man, thought Dean, there's a lot of stuff I need to think about.

"Great, that's where my friend's clinic is." Dr. Spellman pulled a business card out of his pocket and jotted down a name and number. "When you get to Sioux Falls, call and set up an appointment for Sam."

"Thanks, Doc, I will." Dean pocketed the card that the doctor gave him. "Speaking of STDs, do you have the results of Sam's tests yet?"

"Yes, I got the results a short while ago and was on my way to give them to you when I was waylaid by Detective Davis."

Dean sucked in a breathe.

"You can relax, Dean, all the tests came back negative."

Relief washed over Dean. He knew Sam would have have to be tested again a couple of weeks, but it felt great to clear the first hurdle.

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please take a moment to let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hey everyone, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post a new chapter. I've had a couple of issues going on including my computer dying.. But I just got a new computer so hopefully my writing is now back on track.

* * *

So much for leaving first thing in the first thing in the morning. Dr. Spellman gave Sam a once over, making sure his sutures were okay. Then there was a thorough explanation of the care Sam would need for the coming weeks. Plus, there was a prescription for antibiotic ointment for Sam's wrists. It was a lot to take in, but Dean paid rapt attention not wanting to miss something that could set back Sam's care.

It was after noon, by the time the Winchesters got on the road. Since Sam was in no condition to drive, Dean decided against going straight to to Bobby's. However, when he suggested stopping at a motel, his brother started to have another panic attack.

Dean wanted to slap himself. He had just rescued Sam from motel hell. How could he even suggest stopping at one? "I'm sorry, Sammy. I wasn't thinking."

**SNSNSNSN**

After getting Sam settled, Dean lay down on his bed. Lack of sleep the last couple of days, had him falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Knowing that there was no way he could drive straight through to Bobby's and the Impala was too uncomfortable for someone who was just released from the hospital, Dean had decided to stop at a Best Western. The chain hotel was a better option than a sleazy motel. After rushing through check-in, Dean helped usher Sam up to their room. He could tell that his brother was barely keeping it together.

The digital clock read 2:15 AM when the brothers were woken up by the sound of someone trying to open the door to their room.

"Baby, I can't get the door open," said a man's voice.

There was another jingle of the door handle.

"Danny, our room is 309. This room is room is 903," said a girl before she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Sitting up, Dean looked at his brother. Sam was sitting up, legs pulled against his chest, rocking back and forth ever so slightly.

Getting out of bed, Dean crouched down next to his brother's bed. "Sammy, it was just a couple of drunken idiots."

Dean sat next to his brother's bed, for a while, whispering soft reassurances until his brother had stopped shaking. Once his brother was calmer, Dean felt it would be safe to go back to bed. He would end up getting up a couple of hours letter when Sam had a violent nightmare that had the younger brother thrashing about in his bed.

**SNSNSNSN**

Dean glanced over at Sam. His brother looked exhausted, but he seemed to fighting going to sleep. It's no wonder, thought Dean. It seemed liked every time Sam drifted off to sleep he had a nightmare. First, it started off with soft whimpering. Then it switched to near silent pleas and, finally, it was loud begging. Begging for that bastard to stop. Dean hated that, even in his sleep, Sam couldn't get away from his rapist.

Silence. There might have been a lot of noise when Sam was asleep, but when he was awake there was near silence. Since they had left the hotel, Sam had hardly said two words to Dean. It was about a five hour drive to Bobby's house from the hotel and after the first hour Dean had given up hope on trying to engage his brother in conversation. God, Dean would give anything to take away Sam's pain. Since he couldn't do that, he hoped that at least being at a safe haven like Bobby's house would put Sam more at ease.

A stop at a drive-thru kept Dean's hunger in check. As for Sam, he had no appetite at all. A couple of bites of a cheeseburger were all he had to eat that day. Dean knew that not eating wasn't healthy for his brother, but decided not to push the issue for now.

"Sammy, we should be there shortly," said Dean. Sneaking a quick glance at his brother, Dean added, "It looks like we made good time this trip."

Biting back the sigh that wanted to escape him at Sam's lack of response, Dean returned his gaze to the road in front of him. God, please let Sammy come out of this okay. He didn't know what he'd do if Sam stayed like that permanently.

**SNSNSNSN**

Hauling a shipment of refrigerators cross-country was a good way for Craig to diffuse his anger. It had taken longer then he expected to get the taser gun and by the time he had arrived back at the motel, his body was on fire with want. Hopefully, his boy would be awake and well rested. Oh well, if he wasn't, a little zap would wake him up.

Pulling in the motel parking lot, the truck driver had smiled to himself. His current boy was the best one yet. Craig knew the moment he saw him, working in that bar, that he was going to have Sam. It was nice when they went willingly, but when they didn't, it just made all the more fun. And the one currently cuffed to the bed was so delicious, Craig decided he just might have to keep him a while longer than he normally kept his boys around.

"I hope you didn't miss me too much, baby boy," Craig sweetly called out as he entered the room. "What the hell?"

To say Craig had been angry was an understatement. His furor knew no bounds as he proceeded to trash the motel room. Everything, but the sink had been ripped apart. Then he promptly skipped town before the police were called in.

Craig was still puzzling how his boy had managed to escape. The cuffs were way too tight for him to slip out of them. It had to be that damn phone call he made. I never should have left that phone were he could reach it, thought Craig. He could have just kicked himself. Normally he let his boys go after a couple of days, but this one was so sweet he had planned on keeping him for as long as possible. He even had room in the back of the rig so he could accompany Craig on his runs.  
**  
SNSNSNSN**

A sigh of relief escaped escaped Dean as he pulled into the salvage yard. Over the years the place had grown into a safe haven for the Winchesters. He could only hope that it still felt safe to his brother. After the hell Sam had just been through, Dean knew he needed a place to recover. Hopefully Bobby's house would be that place.

"We're here." Dean parked the Impala and turned it off. Exiting the car, Dean gave a good stretch and then turned to look at Sam, who was still sitting in the car. "Why don't you head inside, Sammy, while I grab our bags from the trunk."

Sam seemed frozen in place, but after a minute, he slowly exited the car and headed towards the house, glancing back occasionally to look at Dean.

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.

I want to wish a Happy Easter/Passover to those who celebrate.


	9. Chapter 9

Carrying their duffel bags and Sam's laptop case, Dean stepped onto Bobby's front porch. With the way Sam was staring blankly at the door, Dean was pretty sure his brother had not knocked. Reaching past Sam, Dean rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. A few seconds later the later the door opened, alerting Dean to the fact that Bobby had been waiting nearby.

"Sam, Dean, It's good to see you boys." Bobby was happy to have the Winchesters at his house. He just wished it was under better circumstances.

Looking down at Bobby, Dean silently wondered if it would ever stop feeling weird to see Bobby in that chair. "Hey, Bobby."

"Come on in." Bobby wheeled his chair out of the way to make room for Dean and Sam to enter the house.

Bobby gave the youngest Winchester a once as he entered the house. He took note of the way he stumble slightly as he walked through the door. The boy looked exhausted. When he looked in Sam's eyes, something wasn't right. There was an unrestrained fear in them that he'd never seen before. He'd hunted with Sam, seen the youngest Winchester face down ghosts. He'd been there when an eight year old Sam had to get ten stitches and a tetanus shot after cutting his foot on a rusty piece of metal in the salvage yard. Yet in none of those times did Bobby see fear in Sam's eyes, not like he did now. Bobby's heart broke at the sight.

"Hey, Sam," said Bobby, not surprised when he didn't receive a response. "Supper should be ready soon. How does pot roast sound?"

"Sounds delicious," replied Dean, suddenly feeling ravenous.

"Good. Why don't you put your things way. The spare bedroom upstairs is all ready for you two."

"Bedroom? What, no sleeping on the couch?" joked Dean knowing that Bobby wouldn't have made Sam, in his current condition, sleep on the couch.

"Well, since my insurance company insists on paying for a home aide that I don't need, I figured I'd put her to good use. Told her my nephews were stopping by for a visit and she made up the beds with clean sheets. Also, there's plenty of clean towels."

"Thanks, Bobby." Turning to Sam, Dean spoke, "Why don't you go rest on the sofa while I take our bags upstairs."

Sam just stood there moment before heading into the family room. His backside was throbbing from sitting in the car for so long that laying down was a relief. However, tired as he was Sam kept his eyes open afraid to fall asleep.

"Sammy, why don't you try and get some sleep. I'll wake you when supper's ready." Seeing the uncertainty in Sam's eyes he added, "I promise, I'll be here when you wake."

**SNSNSNSN**

Dean gave a small smile at the sight that greeted him when he came back downstairs, Sam stretched out on the sofa asleep. Seeing Sam looking so relaxed for the first time in days, cemented for him that going to Bobby's was a good idea. Grabbing a blanket from the back of an empty chair, he gently draped it over Sam.

Quietly, Dean slipped out of the room and into the kitchen making sure to stay where he could see Sam. He made a promise to his brother and he intended to keep it.

"Need any help, Bobby?"

"Nope. Everything's done. I'm just waiting for it to finish cooking."

"Okay," said Dean with a small nod of the head. Seeing a pot of recently brewed coffee on the counter, Dean helped himself to a cup.

It was quiet in the kitchen for a few minutes as Dean sipped his coffee and Bobby occasionally peeked at the roast in the oven. Then Bobby decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dean, what happened?"

When Dean had called Bobby from the hospital, he had told the older what happened. However, it was really just a brief overview. Now it was time to give the full details. It wouldn't be easy, but Dean felt safe talking to Bobby, who over the years had become like a second father to him. "I don't know, Bobby. I had finished my hunt and was just about to head out of town when I got Sam's phone call. I thought he wanted to let me know that he had arrived at your house. I didn't realize how much time had passed since we previously talked. He should have been at your house for a while already. Like I told you before, Sam was pleading for me to come get him."

Taking a deep shuddering breathe, Dean pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down, making sure that he still had a good view of Dean. "The phone call got cut off, but within a few seconds my phone was ringing again. I was glad to see that it was Sam."

When Dean fell silent, Bobby gently urged him on.

"I could, um, I could hear him. I could hear that bastard raping Sam."

"Dear God!" exclaimed Bobby. Dean hadn't told him about the second phone call when they talked previously.

"Sam was crying and that bastard kept telling him to say how much he liked it." Dean swiped at his eyes, wiping away tears that had barely begun to fall.

"Oh, Dean." Bobby didn't know quite what to say. There were no words that would take away the memory of that horrific phone call from Dean.

"I called the phone company and tracked down Sam's location." Dean took a deep breath. "I was able to find the motel that Sam said he was at. When I went inside, I found Sam face down on the bed, both arms were cuffed to the bed and he wasn't wearing any clothes."

"What about the bastard who raped Sam?"

"I don't know where he was. Sam was alone when I found him." An image of how Sam looked when Dean found him flashed through his mind. "God, Bobby, he didn't even recognize me at first. He thought I was that bastard come back for more. Once Sam realized it was me, I got him out of there and to the hospital."

"Thank God, you were able to get him out of there."

"I know."

"So what happened next?" asked Bobby. "Were the police called in?"

At Bobby's mention of the police, Dean gave a scowl.

"What?"

Dean mumbled something about a certain detective being dick of the millennium before he proceeded to tell Bobby about the police dismissing the possibility that there was a serial rapist on the loose.

"Wait a minute, the police don't believe these men were raped by the same guy?"

"Yeah. One poor guy had to have surgery to repair the damage, but because he's gay, the police refuse to believe he was raped."

"That's the dumbest thing I ever heard."

Dean couldn't help, but nod in agreement. "You know, Sam's doctor knew what motel I found him in without me mentioning it. I'm thinking that it must be where the other victims were raped. The reason we left is that I wanted to get Sam away from there before that a-hole of a detective could question him. It would have done way more harm than good."

Feeling overwhelmed from relieving the whole ordeal, Dean fell silent.

Reaching out, Bobby gave Dean's arm a light squeeze. "Dean, I want you to know that you and Sam can stay here as long as you want. If you need anything, just ask."

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean felt a little lighter after talking to Bobby. Coming to here was definitely the right decision to make.

A silence fell over the room once again only to be broken a moment later when the oven timer sounded. While Bobby removed the roast, Dean busied himself with setting the table. When everything was ready, he went to wake his brother.

**SNSNSNSN**

"Sam, it's dinner time," said Dean as he walked into the family room. Hearing the soft pleading that was coming from Sam had Dean rushing to his side. He gave Sam's shoulder a gentle tug, pulling him from his slumber.

There was a look of pure fear that flashed through Sam's eyes when he opened them. It went away as he took in his surroundings and he realized he was at Bobby's. Sagging back against the sofa, relief spread through Sam. He was safe, at Bobby's, and Dean was there as promised.

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I know this chapter is a lottle on the short side, but RL has been busy. Hopefully, after now that things calm down, I will have more time to write. I wan t to thank everyone who has stuck by this story. I really appreciate it.

* * *

The days immediately following the Winchesters arrival at Bobby's seemed to blend together. Sam spent most of his time holed up in the upstairs guest bedroom not ready to face the world or the downstairs of Bobby's house. Dean spent most of his time keeping watch over his brother. He tried in to get Sam to leave the room, but other then to go to the bathroom, the youngest Winchester remained put. Dean had taken to bringing food up to his brother. A part of Dean felt that he was coddling Sam, but the idea of forcing Sam to leave the room sickened Dean. His brother was brutally forced against his will and Dean did not want Sam to be forced again, even if was something as small as leaving the guest bedroom for more than a couple of minutes.

However, on the third day, something that Dean classified as wonderful happened. Sam emerged from his cocoon and came down downstairs. Even if he just curled up on the sofa and covered himself with a blanket, his brother considered it a victory.

**SNSNSNSN**

There were whispers going around. Whispers that something big had happened. Castiel heard them at every turn. Something that was a real game changer for the apocalypse had happened. However, since he wasn't receiving the heavenly newsletter anymore, he wasn't sure what to believe. He needed to check out a few things before he contacted the Winchesters. That meant taking a quick trip to Tierra del Fuego to see the only heavenly ally that Castiel had left.

**SNSNSNSN**

Turning the tv off, Dean looked at his brother. About two-thirds of the way through a _Die Hard_ movie, Sam had drifted off to sleep. Dean decided, instead of waking Sam to go upstairs, he would watch over his brother while he slept on the sofa.

Wheeling his chair up to the sofa, Bobby offered to keep watch over Sam while Dean headed upstairs to get some sleep.

"Bobby, I need to be here for Sam," said Dean softly.

"I know Dean, but you're going to collapse soon if you don't get some sleep soon. Real sleep. Not just snatches of it here and there."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't leave Sam alone. And Sam was sleeping so peacefully, on the sofa, that Dean hated to wake him up.

"Dean, I'll stay with Sam."

Dean looked uncertain. He was extremely tired and he knew he needed a good night's rest, but didn't want to leave Sam's side in case he had another of his nightmares.

"Dean, I promise that I won't leave Sam."

Dean was bone weary tired and as much as he hated the thought of leaving Sam's side, he knew he would be no good to his brother if he collapsed from exhaustion. But would Sam be okay if he left?

Bobby could sense Dean's internal struggle. "Dean, I swear I won't leave his side."

If there was one person Dean could trust to watch over his brother, it would be Bobby. "Okay, I'll go and try to get some sleep."

"Good."

Dean got up and started to leave the room when he he turned around and crouched down next to Bobby's chair. "If Sam starts to moan or talk in his sleep, don't wake him. Just rub your hand across his back in a circular motion. It will help if you whisper to him that he's safe. He should settle down. If he doesn't settle down and starts to struggle then wake him up. But don't wake him up unless you have to. Okay?"

"Okay," said Bobby with a short nod of his head. He never for one second has doubted Dean's love for his brother and to see how Dean was taking care of his brother right now filled Bobby with a sense of awe.

**SNSNSNSN**

Climbing in to bed, Dean didn't think he would be able to sleep. There were too many what ifs running around his mind. What if Sam had another nightmare? What if he woke up and freaked out because Dean wasn't there? He knew Sam was in good hands with Bobby, but still he worried. However, lack of sleep had finally caught up with his body and Dean was asleep in minutes.

**SNSNSNSN**

Things in the family room were quiet and Bobby started to drift to sleep in his wheelchair. He was pulled from his sleep by the sounds of soft murmuring come from Sam. Staring down at the youngest Winchester, Bobby could see that Sam's face was creased with pain. Remembering Dean's earlier instructions, he reached his hand out and began rubbing soothing circles across Sam's back while he whispered soft reassurances. Within a couple of minutes, Sam settled back into a more restful sleep.

**SNSNSNSN**

"Micah, it is good to see you," said Castiel as he stepped inside the small hut.

"And you as well, Castiel," replied Micah. "So what brings you to my humble abode?"

Micah was an angel who had been in the same garrison as Castiel and they had been close friends throughout the centuries. Before things shifted and angels chose sides, he was sent to Tierra el Fuego where he was still holed up currently, not yet choosing a side.

"I have heard whisperings about Sam Winchester and I need to know if they are true."

"I thought you were pulled off the Winchesters' case so to speak."

"Sam and Dean are my friends. If something has changed I need to know."

"Yes, it's true, Sam can no longer be the vessel for Lucifer."

"And you're sure of this?"

"I haven't laid eyes Lucifer in more than two millennia, but I'm still sure of the way he thinks. Sam Winchester is tainted and not worthy of being a vessel for Lucifer."

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think._  
_


	11. Chapter 11

Sunlight, that was filtering through the curtains, landed on Bobby's face causing him to stir. It took a few moments to fully wake up. His neck and back were sore from sitting up in his wheelchair through the night. However, Bobby felt it was a small price to pay for Dean being able to get a good night's rest. He had drifted off several times during the night. Being a light sleeper, the slightest whimper from Sam had the older man reaching out with reassurances. It broke Bobby's heart that Sam couldn't at least find peace in his sleep.

**SNSNSNSN**

_Struggling, Sam was struggling to get free, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free from the cuffs. He begged. He pleaded. Nothing he did or said could get Craig to stop._

_"Please, just let me go," pleaded Sam._

_"And give up a prize as sweet as you?" Craig gently traced his fingers down the side of Sam's face. Cupping Sam's chin tightly, he pulled the younger man's face to his for a punishing and brutal kiss._

_Tears streamed down Sam's face. Feeling like he would never escape this living nightmare, he wanted to die. Anything, death included, would be better than his current situation, thought Sam._

The noises coming from Sam pulled Bobby from his thoughts. Looking down at Sam, he could see the youngest Winchester was having another nightmare. Judging from the way his body was shaking and his legs were beginning to thrash around, Bobby knew it must be rather violent.

A firm, yet gentle, tug on his shoulder pulled Sam from his sleep. Scrambling to sit up, he pulled the blanket up to his chin. _Dean_ his mind screamed. _Where's Dean?_

Noticing the way Sam's eyes were scanning the room, Bobby offered up, "He's right upstairs sleeping."

Sam relaxed a little bit upon learning Dean's whereabouts.

"Dean wanted to stay with you, but he was exhausted so I sent him upstairs to try and get a good night's rest." said Bobby. "Now, what's say we get breakfast started."

The blanket had slid down a little, so Sam pulled it back up while making no acknowledgment of Bobby's offer of breakfast.

Bobby sighed on the inside. He had known that is wouldn't be easy helping Sam though his trauma, but it still hurt to watch Sam become a shadow of his former self. Why couldn't there be a magic heal all? "Sam, I think it would be really nice if Dean woke up to a hot breakfast. What do you think about omelets with a side of bacon and hash browns?"

Watching Bobby wheel himself out of the room, Sam began to pull the blanket off of himself. Standing up, he pulled the sleeves of his shirt down so that they covered his bandaged wrists. Slowly, he made his way into the kitchen to find Bobby starting a pot of coffee.

It's a start, thought Bobby. "Wanna grab the peppers and mushrooms out of the fridge for me, Sam?"

**SNSNSNSN**

There was a slight chill in the air which caused Dean to pull the comforter tighter around himself. He was almost about to tell Sam that he would be up in five minutes, like he usually did, when he remembered where he was. _Sammy._ Jumping out of bed, Dean grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them on over his boxer shorts. Dashing out of the bedroom, he raced to the stairs and took them two at a time. He ran straight for the family room only to find it empty. Hearing noises coming from the kitchen, Dean headed in that direction. Relief flooded through him at the site of Sam sitting at the table grating a block of cheddar cheese.

"Morning, Dean," said Bobby.

"Morning, Bobby, Sammy," replied Dean.

"Sam and I are making omelets," said Bobby. "What would you like in yours?"

Glancing at the bowls of diced tomatoes, green peppers and mushrooms, Dean replied "Everything."

"One everything omelet coming right up," said Bobby as he cracked open an egg.

Breakfast was a rather quiet affair with Bobby and Dean doing most of the talking while Sam picked at his omelet and hash browns. Once again, he seemed to have no real appetite.

After grabbing a second helping of bacon, Dean turned to his brother and spoke. "Sam, I'm thinking about changing the Impala's oil today. Wanna help?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean could change the oil on his baby with one arm tied behind his back, but he thought it might do his brother some good to get outside in the fresh air. "Are you sure, Sam?"

Before Sam could answer, his brother's cell phone rang.

Pulling it out of his pocket, Dean answered, "Hello."

_"Dean."_

"Cas?"

_"We need to talk."_

"Now's not a good time, Cas."

_"It's important."_

Dean gave an audible sigh. "Hold on."

Lowering his phone, Dean excused himself and headed outside to the front porch.

**SNSNSNSN**

Stepping outside into the cool air, Dean wish he had thrown a jacket on over his t-shirt. "What is it, Cas?"

_"Where are you?"_

"Bobby's."

Before Dean could even blink, the angel was on the porch, standing way to close to Dean for his liking. "Cas, we've been over this before. Personal space."

"Sorry." The angel took a couple of steps backwards.

"What do you want, Cas?"

"Where's Sam?"

"Inside."

"How is he?"

Castiel's voice was filled with such compassion as if he knew. He couldn't know, could he? wondered Dean.

Seeing the confusion on Dean's face, Castiel spoke, "I know what happened to Sam."

"How?"

"There have been whisperings."

"Whisperings?" What the hell was Cas talking about?

"The angels know. Lucifer knows."

_Lucifer knows? _That was a fear of Dean's that Lucifer would find out what happened to Sam. Somehow he would know that Sam was raped and would offer to take away Sam's pain if he said yes. "Oh God, Sammy. He can't know. Lucifer can't know."

"Do not worry. It is a good thing that Lucifer knows about your brother's rape."

"What?"

"I have spoken with a brother of mine, one I can trust. He has assured me that Sam can no longer be Lucifer's vessel."

"How? Why?"

"Because he is tainted," said Cas, parroting Micah's words to Dean. Words which did not reflect how Castiel felt about Sam.

Dean stood there in shock for a moment before pure anger overtook him and he shoved the angel against the side of Bobby's house. "He's not tainted you son of a bitch! Sam's not tainted!"

_More to Come_

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please take a moment to let me know what you think.


	12. Chapter 12

Fury blazed in Dean's eyes as he held Castiel up against the house. How dare he call Sam tainted?

The angel made no move to escape from Dean's grasp. He knew his human friend wouldn't really hurt him. Dean was hurting so bad for his brother and had no other way to release his pain.

"Dean, if I may explain."

"Explain what? Explain how you think my brother's tainted?"

"I do not think Sam is tainted."

"That's not what you said."

"I should have used different words. To Lucifer, Sam is tainted, unworthy of being his vessel. I, myself, do not think that way."

Letting Castiel's words sink in, Dean released his grip on the angel. Sam's no longer in the running to be Lucifer's vessel. If there was one good thing to come out of this nightmare, it was that Sam was off the hook when it came to Lucifer.

"Is Sam inside?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps, we should tell him the good news."

"No." Dean startled himself with the swiftness with which the word came out of his mouth.

"Dean, this is a good thing. Sam should know."

"I know, it's just that I have to figure out a way to tell him." A way to tell him without doing further damage to his already fragile psyche. Because Dean feared that rather than focus on not being a vessel anymore, Sam would focus on being tainted.

Castiel could see the worry, written plain as day, on Dean's face. He could never understand Lucifer's disdain for humans. Yes, there were a few bad ones. Like the man who hurt Sam, but there were also humans like Dean. A man who Castiel was certain would take his brother's pain on himself if he could. "Dean, you'll figure something out."

"I hope so, Cas. I really hope so."

While Castiel would have liked to stay, he knew there was nothing he could do for Sam so he decided to get back to his hunt for God. Promising to check in with Dean in a couple of days, Cas was gone in a flash, the sound of wings fluttering about signaling his exit.

**SNSNSNSN**

Heading back inside, Dean found the kitchen to be minus one shaggy-haired little brother. "Sam?"

"Upstairs."

God, I hope that Sam didn't hear me yelling at Cas, thought Dean. The last thing he wanted was for Sam to overhear that Lucifer saw him as tainted. "Oh."

"I think he wanted to wash up." It was a guess on Bobby's part as Sam hadn't actually spoken.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Dean sat down opposite Bobby.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" asked Bobby.

"Cas had something important to tell me. Something about Lucifer and Sam."

"What?" There was a slight edge of fear in Bobby's voice.

"Apparently, Lucifer now thinks that Sam's tainted. He thinks Sam's not worthy of being his vessel."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Cas is sure of this?"

"Yeah. The things is, how do I tell Sam?"

"Just tell him he doesn't have to worry about Lucifer anymore."

"I want to, but..."

"But you're afraid Sam will latch on to the word tainted."

"Yeah. God, Bobby, I should be jumping for joy about this, but I'm so afraid that Sam's going to take the word tainted to heart." Dean took a shuddering breath. "This is all my fault."

"Sam being raped?" Confusion was splashed across Bobby's face.

Dean nodded his headed.

"How is that your fault?"

"I watched him walk away, Bobby. I watched Sam walk away and get in a truck with some guy who, a few days of craziness aside, was basically a stranger."

"Do you think that guy was the one who raped Sam?"

"No."

"Dean, this is not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I couldn't get away from Sam fast enough. I let him walk away. I basically sent him out there all alone and he gets raped. I could have done things differently. I could have insisted that he come with me."

"Oh, Dean, you and Sam both needed a break from each other. What happened to Sam was horrific, but it's not your fault. You have been doing everything you can to take care of Sam." Bobby hoped that his words were getting through to Dean.

**SNSNSNSN**

Sam stood in front of the sink, washcloth in hand. Due to his stitches, he was unable to take a shower, so he had to settle for wiping himself down with a soapy washcloth. This was the first time since Dean rescued him that he took a look at himself naked. He felt dirty both inside and out. He just wanted to be clean, but no matter how hard he rubbed with the washcloth, he still felt dirty. No amount of scrubbing could erase the finger-shaped bruises from his hips. He couldn't erase the the feel of Craig's hands on his body. That didn't stop Sam from trying. He scrubbed at his body until his skin was red and raw.

"Can't get clean," muttered Sam. "Just wanna be clean. Don't wanna be dirty."

**SNSNSNSN**

Dean wanted to believe Bobby. He wanted to believe the older hunter when he said that Dean was not to blame for what happened to Sam, but he just couldn't.

Climbing the stairs to check on Sam's Dean decided that maybe should tell Sam now what he learned from Castiel. He'd have to make sure to focus on the fact that Sam was free from Lucifer and gloss over the the whole tainted thing.

Not finding Sam in the bedroom, Dean headed towards the bathroom. His heart sunk when he heard Sam's soft chanting about wanting to be clean. Damn it, there's now way I can tell him now, thought Dean. Knocking on the door, he called out, "Sammy, are you okay in there?"

Sam fell silent, the washcloth dropping from his hand to the floor. He grabbed the clean clothes he brought with him and began to hastily get dressed.

"Do you need any help?" asked Dean.

Opening the door, Sam walked out holding the roll of gauze in his hand. His wrists were still very sore, making it hard for Sam to bandage them himself.

Escorting Sam downstairs, Dean took care of applying the antibiotic ointment to his brother's writs before he gently bandaged them. He would be glad when they were healed enough to not need gauze because it made Sam look like he tried to commit suicide.

"So what do you want to do today, Sammy? We could see if Bobby has any Latin texts he needs translated or we could watch the James Bond marathon instead." Dean wasn't surprised when Sam didn't respond. "James Bond it is."

**SNSNSNSN**

Sneaking looks at Sam out of the corner, Dean had a hard time concentrating on what he was watching. Normally, Ursula Andress in a bikini had him riveted to the screen, but, right now, all Dean could focus on, all he could hear was Sam's voice running though his mind. _Don't wanna be dirty._

_More to Come_

Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

The day that both Sam and Dean had been dreading finally arrived. It was the day that Sam was going to the doctor's to get his stitches removed. It would be the first time, since they arrived at Bobby's, that Sam had stepped outside. Dean felt that he should be thrilled that Sam was getting out into the world again, but his brother still seemed so scared of everything. Dean almost decided not to go. Almost. But he knew Sam needed to see the doctor. Dean hoped that his brother would feel better once he had his stitches removed and he could take a real shower.

"Sam, we gotta go," said Dean. "Your appointment is for 10 and we don't want to be late."

Sam stood at the bottom of the stairs, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his brown hooded sweatshirt, looking very much like a scared little boy. He wasn't ready for this. Please, don't make me do this, he thought.

Turning around, Dean saw that his brother was not moving. He walked over to Sam and gently grasped his arm. "Sammy?"

"Please, don't make me go."

Sam speaks to him for the first time in days and Dean felt his heart shatter at the words. "Sammy, I know you don't want to go, but we have to."

Not responding to his brother, Sam just stood there, his body trembling slightly.

"Sammy, I will be there with you the whole time. I swear I won't leave your side unless you want me to."

Safe, Sam always felt safe with Dean. If Dean was going to be there, maybe, just maybe, he could do this. Nodding his head slightly, he let Dean lead him out of the house.

Not wanting Sam to slip into his head again, Dean kept up a steady stream of conversation the whole ride to the clinic. It was one-sided, but at least it seemed to keep Sam's attention.

"Look Sammy, a Starbucks. Maybe, after your appointment, we could swing by and get one of those fancy schmancy mocha latte frapp things you like so much.

**SNSNSNSN**

The Sioux Falls Medi-clinic was located downtown in a two story building that was once a warehouse, but had been converted into an office building in the nineties. It had a rather spacious waiting room and after signing Sam in, Dean found them a place to sit that was away from most of the other people in the room. They had arrived a couple of minutes early and Dean hoped that meant that they wouldn't have to wait long.

Less then five minutes later, a tall blonde haired woman, dressed in nurses scrubs and jacket with pinks hearts on it, stepped into the waiting room. "Sam Singer?"

Bobby had told the boys to use his last name and have the clinic send the bill to him. He'd take care of it. Dean had tried to protest, but Bobby insisted.

Following the nurse, Sam and Dean were lead down a short hallway to an exam room. After handing Sam a blue exam gown, the nurse left. Allowing Sam his modesty, Dean waited in the hallway until his brother had changed. After getting changed, Sam took a seat on the exam table while Dean took a seat in one of the two chairs in the room.

The room didn't look all that much different from other exam rooms the Winchesters had been in over the years. The walls were painted a soothing cream color. There was a poster extolled the virtues of not smoking. Also there was a framed lithograph of a Norman Rockwell painting. The one of the young boy, pants dropped reading the doctor's diploma on the wall.

The brothers weren't in the room long when the door opened and the doctor walked in. Her name was Susan Graham and she stood about five foot six with hazel eyes and curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders.

"Hi, Sam, I'm Dr. Graham." The doctor smiled at her patient.

Instead of responding, Sam turned his gaze to the floor.

"Sorry, Doc. My brother's not much for talking these days," said Dean.

The doctor nodded. "And you are?"

"Dean. I hope it's okay that I'm here. I told Sam I would stay with him."

"That's fine." Dr. Graham could tell that Dean's presence was what was keeping Sam from fleeing the room.

"I don't know if Dr. Spellman told you about us. He's the one that recommended you."

So these were the brothers that Jack told her about. "Yes, he mentioned you, but didn't give me any of the details."

"He didn't?" Dean had wondered if Dr. Spellman would call his friend and mention that they might come to see her.

"HIPAA regulations prevent us from sharing information on patients without their consent. Also, Dr. Spellman wouldn't violate doctor/patient privilege. He just said that he recommended me to a patient of his."

Dean nodded.

"Okay, I'm going to draw blood for the STD testing first."

After drawing blood, Dr. Graham called in a nurse and handed off the vial of Sam's blood so that it could be sent off to the lab for testing.

"It will take a couple of days to get the results and as soon as we have them, one of the nurses will give you a call."

Next the doctor checked Sam's wrists which looked a little red and puffy, so she instructed Sam to continue with the antibiotic ointment.

Then came the part of the exam that Sam had been dreading the most, the removal of his stitches. The doctor had Sam lay back and put his feet up in stirrups. She went about removing the stitches trying to be as gentle as possibles. Dr. Graham knew that this was bound to be a reminder of the horrible rape her patient suffered.

Seeing tears form in Sam's eyes and the way he was shaking ever so slightly, Dean moved in closer and picked up Sam's hand. Sam gripped his hand tight and Dean hoped that his presence would be able to ground his brother. However, after a few moments, Sam's gripped tightened even more and his breathing sped up. Dean could tell Sam was losing his battle to keep it together. I have to do something, but what? wondered Dean. Suddenly an idea struck him.

"Sammy, remember when you were six and your first grade teacher read _Mr. Popper's Penguins_ to your class. Man, you couldn't stop talking about penguins for months afterward. Remember that stuffed penguin Dad bought for you? What did you call him?"

Dean's voice was soothing and it help to distract Sam from what the doctor was doing. "Captain Cook."

Sam spoke so softly that Dean almost didn't hear him. "Right, you named him after one of the penguins in the book. You carried him everywhere. How many times did you put him in the freezer because in the book, Captain Cook slept in the ice box. That stopped once I told you that he would get hypothermia and die if you kept doing that. You cried so hard after that I thought for sure Dad was gonna tan my hide."

Dr. Graham was in awe of the way that Dean was taking care of his brother. She knew, without a doubt, that if it weren't for Dean's comforting presence, Sam would be having a much harder time with having his stitches removed. She wished that all rape victims could have someone like Dean by their side.

Once the stitches were removed and the exam completed, Dean followed the doctor into the hallway so that Sam could have some privacy while he changed back into his clothes.

"Dean, I think these might be of some help," said Graham as she held out some pamphlets.

Accepting them with a grateful smile, Dean stuck them in his pocket. "Thanks for everything, Doc."

"You're welcome," replied Dr. Graham. "Your brother is very lucky to have you taking care of him."

"Thanks." Of course, if I had been taking better care of Sam, this wouldn't have happened in the first place, thought Dean.

On the way back to Bobby's, Dean stopped at Starbucks. Luckily, they had a drive-thru as the visit to the doctor had taken a lot out of Sam and he just wanted to be back at Bobby's. Dean ordered a mocha latte for Sam and a regular coffee for himself. For once Dean didn't tease his brother about his choice of beverage.

**SNSNSNSN**

The moment they arrived at back at Bobby's, Sam headed to straight for the bathroom for a much needed shower. He turned the water up as hot as he could stand it. Once again, no matter how hard he scrubbed, Sam still felt dirty.

Forty-five minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, skin rubbed raw. After getting dressed, he headed downstairs to find Dean sitting on the sofa half paying attention to a Jim Carrey movie.

"Hey, Sam. Did you have a good shower?"

Sam was silent as he sat down on the sofa. Grabbing the green throw blanket, he pulled it up to his chin.

"How about I bandage your wrists?" Dean had everything he needed to take care of Sam's wrists laid out on the coffee table.

Nodding his head, Sam pushed the blanket down. Pulling up the sleeves of his shirt, he held out his arms. Once his brother was done, Sam pulled the blanket back up to his chin.

"I'll be right back." Jumping up Dean ran into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he returned carrying a bowl of chips and couple of drinks.

Sitting down, Dean placed the bowl and one of the drinks on the coffee table. The other drink he handed to Sam. "Here's your latte, Sammy. I heated it up for you."

Sam accepted the drink and took a small sip.

"Want some chips?" Dean wasn't surprised when Sam shook his head. His brother still wasn't eating much. "Sam, you did real good today."

"Not good." Sam spoke so softly that his brother didn't hear him.

"What?"

"Not good. I'm not good."

Dean was confused. Was Sam saying he that he didn't feel good or was he saying that he was bad. The thought of Sam feeling that way about himself made Dean's heart clench. "Sammy."

"Don't wanna be good. Don't wanna be a good boy."

"Sammy, you are not a bad person. What happened to you doesn't make you a bad person. You are a good person."

"No. He said I was a good boy, such a good boy. Don't wanna be his good boy." Tears started to fall down Sam's face.

In that moment, Dean felt like his heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. Damn that bastard! Damn him to hell for what he did to Sam!

_More to Come_

Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always greatly appreciated! Please let me know what you think._  
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